


Midterms Suck

by RylanMeloria



Category: Original Work
Genre: College, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, no beta we die like men, this is my first work please be nice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RylanMeloria/pseuds/RylanMeloria
Summary: This was something I wrote for creative writing a few years ago, and decided to keep working on it.
Relationships: Ryker/Kamryn
Kudos: 1





	Midterms Suck

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! someone actually clicked on my story! Thanks! This is the first piece of writing I've done that I've actually decided to share, so if you have any questions feel free to ask, my tumblr and insta will be at the end. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!

The only sound in the large lecture hall is the scratching of pencils on paper. Not one of the dozens of college students utters a single word until the last paper is handed to the professor. Then, they disperse out into the crisp Colorado snowfall. Some are darting to their next class, others are slowly meandering towards the parking lot, talking quietly with their friends.

I stroll out of the lecture hall and in the direction of the parking lot, my hoodie hanging loosely off my shoulders. The heavy thud of a textbook hitting the concrete, followed by a small groan of dismay, sounds behind me. I look over my shoulder to see my boyfriend, Ryker, crouching on the snow-covered ground, trying to pick up the textbook he dropped. Key word being ‘trying’. So far, he’s been unsuccessful, due to the rather obscene stack of books and binders in one of his arms and the travel mug of tea in the other. 

After watching him struggle for a few seconds, I saunter over and grab the textbook off the ground, placing it on top of the precarious stack in his arms. I carefully help him stand without dropping anything and we start making our way to the parking lot.

“Hey, do you wanna go chill out at that new coffee shop down the street and relax?” I ask. We’re both done with tests for today, and I figured Ryker could use some time to unwind. I only have a few more tests throughout the week, but Ry, the insane workaholic that somehow managed to steal my heart, has at least seven tests, and it’s only Monday.

“Can’t. Have to study.” he replies, quicksand to the point, as he sets his tea down on the snow-dusted hood of his truck to look for his keys.

“Cool. Want me to bring home some food, then?” I propose, and the only response I get is an affirmative hum before he hops into his truck and speeds, probably literally, back to the apartment we share. I just shrug and get into my own car, already knowing what food I’m going to get.

* * *

“I come bearing sustenance!” I proclaim, twenty minutes later, hip-checking the door of the apartment open, a bag of cheap tacos in one hand and a drink carrier full of Red Bulls in the other hand. I don’t even blink at what Ryker has done to our living room, just step over the piles of paper, books, and binders littering the hardwood floor, and move towards the counter to det down the food.

“So, what do you need to study for, and can I be of any help?” I don’t look up from where I’m unloading tacos from the plastic bag when he answers, papers rustling quietly in the background. ‘Poplar St.’ by Glass Animals plays from the portable speaker on the couch, rolling guitar floating through the room.

“Well, tomorrow I’ve got Latin and Calculus, hence the latin notes,” he gestures to the notebook in his hand. “Wednesday is wide open. Thursday, I’ve got Technical Writing, Biomed, European History, and Psych. Then on Friday, it’s Music Theory and I finish with Music Composition.” He points to each stack on the floor as he names off each class. ‘ _ My boyfriend is going to work himself to death, I swear, _ ’ I think to myself as I look at each of the organized piles, honestly impressed, and hand him a Red Bull. I really shouldn’t be feeding his caffeine addiction like this, but it’s midterms, so I’ll cut him some slack. The can hisses, then pops as it’s cracked open. He downs the drink in seconds, and I glare at him disapprovingly. He actually looks a bit sheepish.

“Thanks for the food. If you want to, I could use some help with verb conjugations for latin. I know you took it last semester.” He looks up at me from his spot on the floor. I let out an over-dramatic sigh and pick up the latin stack, making a spot for me to sit on the floor next to him. The notebook is plucked out of Ryker’s hands and I skim over the page.

“Alright, list the conjugations for the verb  _ esse _ .” I prompt. The synthetic rhythm of Daft Punk’s ‘Instant Crush’ bounces softly around the room. The silver clock on the far wall reads 7:23 pm.

* * *

Six hours later, the organized chaos has turned into just chaos. Papers are scattered everywhere, covering almost every available surface. Ryker and I are still sitting in the middle of the floor, but it’s one in the morning. I can tell the caffeine is starting to wear off, and the stress is really starting to get to him. He’s sitting up against the coffee table, reading and rereading the same page of his calculus notes. He hasn’t turned the page at all in the last forty five minutes. His forest green eyes are shining with tears that are waiting to fall, and his breathing starts to turn into heaving gasps. He frantically rubs the tears out of his eyes, but they are quickly replaced by more that start to track down his cheeks, dropping onto the notebook. The speaker ran out of battery about an hour ago, so the only sound in the room is Rykers uneven breathing. I lean over and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, and the contact seems to break the dam.

“I can’t do it! I’m never gonna memorize this stupid fucking formula! I’m gonna fail this midterm and become a family disappointment!” The notebook is hurled across the room and it hits the wall with a dull smack. He curls in on himself, hitched breathing turning into hiccuping sobs.

God, I hate seeing him like this, knowing that there really isn’t much I can do to help. All I can do is try and comfort him, and try I shall! I scoot closer to him, close enough that our shoulders are touching and our legs bump against each other. Iplace a comforting hand on his back, rubbing circles in between his scrunched up shoulder blades. Ryker suddenly shifts to wrap his arms around me, digging his nails into my hoodie and burying his face in the crook of my neck. I use my other hand to card my fingers through his soft, platinum hair, loose since his hair tie fell out at some point. His sobs quiet down until they’re only small, wet hiccups.

We sit like tha, huddled up against the coffee table in the dim light of our apartment for a while. I decide to finally try that ‘comforting’ thing I thought about earlier.

“Hey Ry,” he looks up from my shoulder at my use of his childhood nickname. Our faces are only inches apart, and I kiss him lightly on the nose, reveling in the small smile the action gets me. “You’re not going to fail and you could never be a disappointment to your family. I know, for a fact, that your parents are proud of you for the amount of classes you’re taking, but they know that it’s a lot of work. They won’t be mad if you don’t get an A in a few of them. Besides, you’ve already memorized, like, fifty other functions, formulas, and equations, and that’s just for calculus! You’ve got more latin grammar rules in your big, smart brain right now than I ever bothered to learn! So what’s one less formula? I promise Ry, you’ll be fine.” I finish my little speech, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead and hugging him tighter. 

He hugs me back, burying his face in my chest, humming contentedly. We sit in the quiet for a bit, Ryker slowly sliding into my lap, before I look at the clock.

“Oh, it’s almost two in the morning, and you,” I ruffle his hair, “have tests tomorrow. I think it’s about time we get you to bed.” I move to stand, picking up my mostly asleep boyfriend and start heading to our bedroom, weaving through the stacks of papers and binders.

“But what about my notes?” he mumbles tiredly. It takes me a second to decipher what he said, since it was muffled by the shoulder of my hoodie.

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean them up. I don’t have any tests until Thursday, so I can sleep in.” A smile crosses my face at the thought of sleeping in. Rykers’ mumbled ‘fine’ is almost lost in a yawn. I shimmy my way through the door to our room, making sure Rykers head doesn’t hit the doorframe, and place him on the bed. It’s more like a nest of blankets and pillows, because I’m pretty sure there isn’t even a mattress under all of it, but that’s beside the point. He’s out like a light as soon as his head hits one of the many pillows. I toss one of our fuzziest blankets over him before turning out the lights and treading back to the living room.

It’s a total wreck. Have I mentioned how much I hate test weeks? With a resigned sigh, I kneel down and start organizing the papers, mentally preparing to repeat this whole ordeal again throughout the week. The silver clock on the far wall reads 3:04 in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is @prinx-of-exos  
> My insta is @deadlymagpie  
> Kudos and comments will get me to write more, and I accept constructive criticism.


End file.
